The sorceress ordered the dragon into the adjoining room, which was little more than a closet really. Even though they had the largest suite on the S.S. Windlass, which was the largest Brech dirigible—quite a bit bigger than the Frühlingshuhn—it was still only a collection of three very small rooms. Then she sat down with the baby and attempted to give her a bottle. She did take it, but fussed when her mother tried to burp her, until she was given over to Baxter, who completed the job and had her asleep inside of five minutes.
“Now where were we?” he asked, unbuttoning his shirt.
“I hate to spoil the mood,” she said, “but there is a man spying on us outside that door.”
“What kind of man?”
“A government wizard or a freelancer who’s out to get you?”
“Does it matter?” she asked.
“It does to me. King and country and all still means something to me.”
“Very well,” she sighed. “Uuthanum.” She waved a finger toward the door. “He’s from the Ministry of War.”
“All right.” Baxter went into the third room of the suite, the tiny parlor, and then out the door from there to the hall. Senta could hear a brief tussle in the hallway outside. Then Baxter entered through the bedroom door from the corridor. In his right fist he carried a man in pin stripes by the scruff of the neck. The man was clutching at his throat and fighting for breath.
“I doubt he’ll say any magic words for a minute or two. I don’t suppose he’ll be able to answer any questions either.”
“Oh, I don’t want to interrogate him. I just want him to go away.” She raised her hands above her head. “Rezesic edios uuthanum illiam vor.”
The man in the pin stripes disappeared with a pop.
“Where did he go?” asked Baxter, looking at his right hand.
“I was holding him.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t miss.”
“Did he make it back to Greater Brechalon?”
“Probably. If not, then somewhere between here and there.”
“We’re a hundred miles out to sea.”
“Then he picked an extremely poor time to spy at my door,” said Senta.